Life after Death, Love after Loss
by Sparkle Fairy the Great
Summary: Clover recalls the last moments of her life before she dies and finds herself in 18th century Russia. Now tagging along with a group of travling gypsies and a Russian named Vitaly, Clover tries to get close to the broken and deformed Erik while also dealing with the grief of her past life. Susan Kay based. E/OC.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello one and all! After many failures and tragities of writing I am happy to bring you a story (hopefully) worth reading! Please if you like it then comment or if you don't critique but please do not flame! I am not in the mood to call the fire department (corny joke alert!). **

**So yes my lovelies, hold on to your pantalones and enjoy the read :)**

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Dampness.

It was a damp sticky feeling binding me to the Earths musky surface, like when you let a stray drop of ice cream dry on your fingers. It was a feeling I had always hated and now during the last minutes of my life I could only think why I had never licked that slithering sweet before it was too late.

Why hadn't I stopped Jessica from drinking that night? I wasn't intoxicated myself, but a sensible move would be to keep a reckless minor from making such a mistake. Of course I was a minor myself by the laws standards, being 17 and all, and I was far from being able to make the wise decisions an adult beyond my years would make. Though as I lay stuck to the ground as one might find their hair to their head in the morning, I kept repeating the entire night's events trying to find where I could've stopped Jessica from ingesting all of that vodka.

The truth was I had millions of chances to stop my dead friend.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see the wreckage that once could be called a car in the side of a tree. I wonder how the tree felt with that chunk of metal embedded in its decaying bark. In a few hours it would be dead like me and all because of the fact that I couldn't stop that vodka pouring down poor dead Jessica's throat like a good friend should.

Gosh I'm an ass.

A slow tight feeling began to take over my chest cavity. My heart felt like it was beating through a wall of molasses and all of the air in my dying lungs had escaped to be free in the humid July air.

This was the end and I mentally said a prayer to God that he would forgive me of the sin that ended both Jessica and my own life this summer night.

Dampness.

It was a damp sticky feeling binding this mortal body to Earth, but not this soul. I then lifted out of my body seeing the flashing red and blue lights of police cars racing in the distance, not too soon to discover that it was too late for the passengers of this unfortunate accident.

I waved goodbye to them knowing I would never get the chance to talk to them in my previous life. I lifted up into the air… And was gone.

"Хорошо люди торопиться! Солнце садится за матушку-Россию, и мы должны продолжать!" I heard a single voice yell amongst the gibberish of others.

_Where was I?_ I thought as I began to come back to reality, my senses sharpening from what seemed a century's sleep. _Surely this wasn't the language of angels in heaven. In a way it almost sounded… Russian? How the heck does dying relate to Russia? _

I strain to open up my eyes to see where death had sent me, but the muscles didn't seem to obey and stayed clamped shut. Aggravated by my own stubbornness, I go instead to feel around with my hands only to have it trampled on to my dismay.

I wince at the pain and cradle my poor abused hand to my chest, feeling the stomping of shoes and bare feet batter the rest of my body not too soon after. I was scared and desperate to open my eyes, but it was like an invisible force was keeping them from breaking apart and freeing me from the darkness of my mind.

_Open your eyes Clover! _

A hurried foot kicks me in the side of my head. That was all I needed to throw my eyelids apart and see with my newly awakened eyes.

Swarms of people in strange winter attire pushed past my confused form on the ground. The women wore dresses spanning from vests, baggy shirts, and various colored dresses with bandannas while the men wore similar shirts with raggedy old pants and long boots. The air was a frosty chill, and I couldn't help wondering whether those outfits really kept them warm or not. Another man only a few feet in front of me, I guessed he was the one yelling before, was dressed more like what I thought a Russian would look like with a large fur coat and one of those big, fluffy, cylinder shaped hats.

He looks down at me and frowns, then shoves through the crowds of strangely dressed people and over to me.

"Ты в порядке девочка?" he says in his native tongue kneeling down next to me with a worried look. I just look at him confused and he asks something else in what seems to be another language.

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand." I say raising my voice over the sea of different tongues. He nods as though he might understand my plea and holds his hand out to me. I stare at it for a moment like it might just bite me if I got too close, but thinking back to the man's sincere look in his eyes I felt a spark of trust between the two of us.

I take his hand and let him lead me away from the hustle and bustle of the people.

His name was Vitaly Belova and that was pretty much all I understood. He tried and explained that to me as he took me to his home sweet caravan. It was pretty cool to look at seeing as I'd never seen a caravan like that except in old movies like _the Wizard of Oz._ It was pretty much a long rectangle with many colorful designs on its yellow and green surface. It had, on top of that, red flap windows and BIG yellow wheels stained with dirt and age.

I nodded at him in an approving way making him smile with delight. In a way he reminded me of Santa Claus with his round rosy red cheeks and long scruffy beard, the only difference being that he had dark brown hair with a few streaks of gray and silver entwined in its mangled mess. I had a feeling he hadn't taking a proper bath in a really long time.

He led me up the stout ladder of the moveable home and inside where many curios and cluttered objects lay sprawled about. Part of the mess, which was as thick as his facial hair, was a pile of clothes which he went straight away too and picked out a baggy white shirt, some boots, and a belt, handing them to me.

At first I was confused as to why he gave me them but then remember that I was wearing a T-shirt and blue jeans which wasn't exactly winter attire. I give him a grateful smile and a nod before he leaves the caravan to let me change. I leave my jeans on but change pull on the boots and fasten the belt tightly around the dress like shirt which fell just above my knees.

I twirl around a bit, amusing myself in my new outfit, and I kind of felt like an adventurer who had stumbled into the past of Europe.

The afterlife sure was strange.

I feel the caravan jerk forward making me stumble to find my balance. It was clear that we were moving on and I started to worry about where my foreign friend was taking me.

And then I remembered I was dead.

I find a seat and kick back and relax. There really was no point in worrying. I was technically dead and who knows, maybe Vitaly was taking me to see God or something. Even if he wasn't there really wasn't anything I could really do otherwise. I had nowhere to go, and this man had generously given me a place to stay, so I might as well just roll with it till I figure out what the next step I would take will be.

Though the thought that I had died and not gone to heaven worried me, and I couldn't help to think that I probably had ended up in purgatory till I was to be cleansed of some sin or something. I also started to think that it was all because of the fact that I hadn't drove instead of poor drunk Jessica.

Vitaly yells something from outside of the caravan and I poke my head out the window to see him hanging out on the front platform with a pipe, smiling at me. I smile back and let the sting of the newly sprung snowflakes decorate my hair and face. I felt the sting of the air invade my lungs and even though I was dead I had never felt more alive.

As we rode on we passed the wide fields and the occasional farm of this mystical world. It was so vivid and beautiful in the twilight cloudy sky that it looked like it came straight out of a brand new painting. It made no sense to why a place that was supposed to be a temporary punishment would seem so pleasant, but even I knew that looks could be deceiving.

Tired and worn from the day's turn of events, I go and sit myself on a chair and begin to doze off. Even though my head was filled to the brim with questions and worries I still feel the sandman taking me into dream land.

The next few days were filled with more traveling as we followed the other groups of caravans to where ever the heck they were going. Vitaly in that time tried to teach me some Russian by pointing to an object and stating its name like you would to a baby. It definitely helped pass the time and soon enough I could name a couple of the objects in the caravan in Russian.

Later, about three days later or so we finally stop and all of the people (I assumed they were Gypsies) unpacked their caravans. Some brought out tents to unfurl and set up while others just set out their kids and dogs to run wild in a way only a child in their youth can.

I help Vitaly unpack his own things which was a tent of his own and some of the curios he had inside. It looked like he might sell some of them but I couldn't tell for sure.

After I'm done doing the labor he gives me the chance to have some fun and look around. I can see out of the corner of my eye that he's watching me carefully, which I don't blame him since I am a stranger to these migratory people and I don't even speak their language!

I did however know how to speak a little French and Spanish from all the times I switched between subjects in school. I could never make up my mind between the two and usually ended up spending after school trying to catch up with the class.

The whole campsite was a sight to behold and many different people were setting to perform and show off many different things. Some were fortune tellers and psychics, some musicians, fire-breathers, dancers, sales men like Vitaly… and some people who put things on display.

Those who had animals or people in cages were the places I tried to avoid. Not because I was scared but mostly because it pained me to see these poor people and animals being treated like they were freaks. There was a two headed snake and even a man with what looked like a medical tumor on his face. It took all my strength not to go and beat the bastards who confined them like that right then and there.

"Hey you! Lassie! Come over here!" a voice I could actual understand called out to me with a thick Scottish accent. I turn around and see a man in one of the cages on a stool gesturing toward me. "I know you probably can't understand me-"

"Oh I can understand you!" I say almost too happily, causing him to stare at me in astonishment. I walk on over to him a place my hands on the bars separating us.

The scraggly looking man with messy auburn hair gives me a toothy. It seemed that he hadn't heard anyone speak English in a while either.

"Well bless me soul! An American Lass in a gypsy camp like this? The Lord sure is smiling down on me today! Hey Lass could you do me a favor and help me get out of here? I know it's a lot to ask but I've had enough of the beatin' and jeerin' and a kind lookin' girl like yerself looks like the person to help an old Scotts Man like me out." He gives me one of the saddest faces I've ever seen in my life. What on Earth could this seemingly normal looking man be being persecuted for?

I give him a nod and he gestures toward me.

"All I need is one of those hair pins ye got there and I can pick meself outta here in a jiffy!" I take one of the many holding my hair up and hand it to him. He then hides the pin in his sleeve and gives me a grateful nod. "You're a saint Lass. Thank ye."

I leave him, knowing I might have done the man some good. No one should be abused in the way that these people have and hopefully he can escape successfully before his enslaver finds out.

The sun begins to set over the campsite and the gypsies begin to finish up their preparations for the nights events. I could already hear the small flocks of people pouring in to see the gypsy performers entertain them for the night.

I go and follow some crowds to see the several tents and stands, each one holding a different talent or something to sell. One tent, a very large elaborate red one, caught my eye. A part of me that was drawn deeply toward it moved my legs in almost a trance like state, even though the part of me was almost screaming to stay away.

The latter didn't win.

I follow the rest of the people inside to be greeted by a sweet smoke filling the entire cavity of the tent. It was intoxicating and for a moment I had the sinking feeling that I might be inhaling a drug of some sort. Well again, I'm dead! Why do I care?!

We all sit down on a plush, and also red, exotic Persian carpet with a dim candle light softly glowing in the background, and wait for the main event to start. As we waited I began to feel the effects of the strange incenses in the environment and felt slightly light headed. When I thought that I couldn't wait in this haze any longer, our host finally showed himself.

He was clad in all black, a black suit, black dress pants, even a black cape. The only things that weren't white were his full faced mask and his undershirt, so I guess saying he was all black was a bit of an over exaggeration.

He gave us a haunting grin and theatrically gestured his hand as began to speak in the native language of his guests. After his little speech and the Ooo's and Aaa's from the audience he began to start his act. It was something I will never forget. If the strange aromas and sweet smoky smells weren't mesmerizing enough, this man could almost seemingly defy gravity making a table seem to fly and all sorts of illusions that were far beyond my minds comprehension.

Maybe this was heaven? Seeing this graceful almost even inhuman man do these seemingly impossible things was breathtaking, and all I could wonder was if I was in the presence of a dark angel of some sort.

By the time he had finished I was clapping and cheering as much as the person next to me. It was spectacular, but that happy mood seemed to diminish when the crowd started chanting something and our host held a troubled look, his slender otherworldly hands clenched in fists of rage.

"Si c'est le diable que vous voulez, alors c'est le diable vous doit obtenir!" was all I heard him mumble before he ripped off his mask.

I would be lying if I told you I was prepared for what I saw. Actually at first I thought I had stumbled into a horror movie. Underneath was an almost skeleton like face with thin discolored skin and lips that swelled to the right side of his features. His golden eyes pierced the crowd with unimaginable pain, sorrow, and hate that it almost seemed to drag every depressing and hurtful memory from my own heart and out of me. It got worse when those deformed lips began to produce a sound that's unearthly beauty rang through my ears and burst through my very soul. Every tragic event that had happened to him melted into me and I felt all the loneliness and pain of the world.

When he was done he delicately placed his mask back on, treating it as though it might break without the right gentleness of touch. It was also the signal for everyone to leave.

Everyone but myself. I stayed. And wept. I let free all of the pain and regret inside and let it all out on that perfectly good carpet.

"I'm sorry Jessica! It's all my fault that you're dead!" I screamed into my hands, my face was warped with all the feelings and memories of the past and, and most importantly, of Jessica's death.

The masked man just stared at me curiously, and then slowly moved toward me where he proceeded to crouch down in front of my emotionally broken form.

"I'm… sorry." He said hesitantly, as though the words didn't sit well on his tongue.

I look up at him and wipe away the blurry tears from my eyes.

"I-It's not you." I sniffle to his surprise. "It's me, I've done something terrible and I don't think she or God will ever forgive me." I stare back into those golden orbs behind the mask and for a moment I forget about Jessica and the deformed face. Those eyes truly were as beautiful as his voice of velvet; they were like tiny suns amongst his dark aura and a force beyond anything I have felt before had me feel connected to him. It was like being pulled to a ridiculously strong magnet.

I stand up and regain my composure. I felt a little embarrassed from letting that side of me show to this complete stranger, but at the same time it felt good to get all of that off of my chest. I smile at him as he stands up and I immediately notice the huge height difference between the two of us. He was like a skyscraper compared to me and I was considered a little over the average height for someone my age!

"I'm sorry let's start over. My names Clover and I've been traveling with Vitaly in his caravan for the past couple of days." I say extending my hand in probably the most awkward way a person can.

He stares at my hand like it were poison oak or something and then abruptly turns around to play with a random object of his. He plops down on a bean bag like cushion and continues to mess around with it, leaving me utterly confused.

"Are you not afraid to be in the presence of such a monster?" he asks coldly.

I just stare at him in amazement. I try and act civilized to him and he shuns me like I were some tyrant? It made absolutely no sense what so ever.

"Well last time I checked a monster was something with big pointy teeth and lives under beds which you clearly are not." I say huffily in my own defense. "How can a face define someone as a monster?"

"Ha! Then you truly are one of innocent blood. Instead of cowering you stand up to the beast as though ready to tame it. You really are a strange one, I saw that the moment you stepped into my abode." Every syllable of every word was almost too much for my mind to bear. He was ugly yet strangely attractive in every way he moved and in every word he spoke yet it was that face almost tore it all apart… almost.

"I'm hardly innocent." I scoffed, crossing my arms defiantly across my chest. He just smirked, finally looking up from his small contraption.

"You could have fooled me." He smiled, and once again I found myself admiring how even amongst the bad points about his appearance there were many nice ones that I could pick out, even though the smile wasn't as kind as I would've liked it to be.

I move over to the cushion next to him, causing him to shift nervously in his seat. Obviously he wasn't used to someone being so close to him so I took the opportunity to observe what he was fiddling with and discovered a windup toy in his hand.

That was odd.

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**So yeah that was the first chapter! Huzzah! I hope you guys enjoyed it because it was intresting to write.**

**I always read all of these POTO fanfics where the girl goes back into the past and tries to get back to the present while still dealing with a heartbroken phantom. **

**My idea was that what if she died! Yayz for death, destruction, and pancakes!**

**Hopefully it ended up being a good idea because after hours of reading homestuck and being forced to also read the Prince and the Pauper for school I couldn't help but feel the need to write something nice, deep, and depressing :)**

**Comment and Critique! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Gosh I am soooo exaughsted. I just got back from _W__icked _in NYC and I am happy to say that it was spectacular! Really that and the Olympics have been the highlight of my week, and now along with this story I'm also having to be whipped back into shape for tennis season. **

**I was pressed for time when writing this chapter so sorry if it's a bit short :P However I was tremendously motivated by all the positive reviews I got from the first chapter that I couldn't help but get started on the next chapter ASAP!**

**Thanks!**

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**Chapter 2:**

"Damn it all!" I screamed with a furry of a roaring fire. In fact my face was practically searing from the anger those children had set ablaze in me, and it was all because they couldn't keep their grimy pestering hands to themselves.

It was strange to see myself getting so worked up since I have always been tolerant of kids. I had more younger cousins than I could count, and it was always… er… an adventure during the holiday seasons with them all. That was mostly my Aunts fault since she would dump the little munchkins on her eldest children and myself while she would gossip and drink like a fish. At the end of the day it gave me plenty of experience dealing with these yard apes.

However, none of that had ever prepared me for these Gypsy children.

Never in my life had I seen such wild and rambunctious younglings. Their curious minds never ceased to waver at the chance to poke their noses into someone else's business, or to let their inner tricksters out to play (if you'd call petty crimes playing). In a way I did understand that it was all they had grown up with, but when they got in my hair they were like a tangle you could never get out.

Maybe I wouldn't be so mad if they hadn't stolen my precious necklace- how the heck did they get it off of me anyways?- and instead continued with their usual attempts to stuff toads down my shirt and replace the water in my canteen with dirt.

Their pranks were even worse if I saw Erik walking by. I mean sure he was shy and a bit reserved, but I would rather not look like an idiot when around the opposite sex!

I storm by the Scotsman who I tried to help escape a week or so ago. Apparently as soon as he picked the lock and took a few steps out he was put back in.

To my delight however, he was kind enough to give me my hairpin back the next day.

I give him a polite nod before investigating more of the camp. I must have been searching for hours with no sign of those rascals, and I even bothered to look near the horses and that creepy old woman's tent where she sells her taxidermy. The only place I hadn't looked was in the woods where I sometimes see the children go (with a brief warning from their parents).

I head toward the edge of the woods and stare into its untamed depths. I might be dead, but I still worry about what wild beasts lurk within the forests shadows. Just in the past two days I've seen a bear and a mangy looking wolf on the outskirts of the camp, their eyes gazing hungrily at some of the livestock the travelers had brought along. It almost seemed unethical for these children's parents to let them go into such dangerous territory.

I pull the hood of my wool coat snuggly over my head before building up the courage to wander inside. The winter air was crisp and fresh sending a burning tingle deep inside of my throat. A few yards in I can already hear impish giggling and I know I have found what I had been looking for.

I keep myself presses close to each tree I pass, trying my best to keep quiet enough to sneak up on the young thieves. When I find them playing on a large mossy rock I zone in on the one with my necklace in hand. He was just as dirty and feral looking as the rest of them, but that look in their eyes gleamed with so much life and for a moment I felt jealous of their lively youth.

As soon as I see its sterling silver shine I position myself to pounce.

1

2

3!

I push myself hard off from the tree and sprint, grabbing hold of the young boy with my beloved jewelry, pinning him to the ground. The shock on his face gives me enough time to snatch back what is mine and put enough distance between us before he has the time to react.

"Ha!" I huff triumphantly. "Look whose laughing now!"

However, the Gypsy boy's expression didn't change and in fact it started to look as though fear had begun to plague his eyes… just like Jessica's before she died.

The memory came flooding back to me and there I was again at the party. Her sloppy form was flung over some guys lap; a half empty bottle of alcohol threatening to spill from her hand. She was laughing as he would feel her up and whisper unspeakable things in her ear.

His eyes glared up at me and an unnatural yellow glow would flood into his irises. He was a predator. A beast. A wolf.

I hear a low growl resound from behind me.

A wolf with its blood tangled fur and curled claws stood in attack position behind me. Those horrible yellow eyes staring me down with a hunger only the flesh could satisfy.

A cold wind blew down the nape of my neck, blowing away my hair and exposing my jugular. It was what it wanted, like a baby's desire for its mother milk it wanted my blood and bone and once again I felt the familiar grip of death closing in around me.

I knew this was my only chance for redemption of sin, for forgiveness of the crime I did to Jessica. So without skipping a beat I turned and tackled the monster that dared show its face in the light of day.

"Run! Get away you idiot!" I screeched at the boy, but he just stood there dumbfounded and paralyzed from fear. Unsure of what to do I pick up a rock and hurl it at him in a weak attempt to make him flee.

Big mistake.

The wolf, seeing the small margin of chance, leaps onto my back and grinds its fangs deep into my shoulder. Pain seers down like hot iron in my blood and muscle tissue, causing a blood curdling howl to escape my frost bitten lips.

I fall to the ground just as the boy darts into the underbrush of the woods, his feet seeming to barely touch the ground as he ran for his very mortality.

I felt a slight bit of content as his scrawny body vanished into safety. I knew that the wolf wouldn't go after something meatless as him when he could have a meaty female defenselessly lying in front of him, and once again I felt the same humble feeling I had when I helped that Scottish Man out.

I felt that finally I would be able to get out of this purgatory and rest in peace.

The wolf takes its time to savor the kill, circling around me and taking snaps at my ankles and hips. By this point the overwhelming amounts of pain had numbed my body and all I waited for was to be delivered once again to the afterlife.

Strangely enough, in my last few moments, I couldn't stop thinking of Erik. His strange contradictory being was stuck in my mind like a tattoo and all the feelings of attraction and repulsion came flooding back into my mind as well as my heart.

I couldn't help thinking that it might have been nice to get to know this mysterious stranger.

None of those feelings mattered now. I awaited my descent to heavens gates and the darkness once again engulfed every being of my soul and conscious. The feeling was so familiar that it was almost welcomed with an open heart.

I heard what sounded like a choir of angels calling my name and deep into their embrace. I assumed that this voice, full of love and hope, was God welcoming me into his heavenly home.

The otherworldly noise circled around my mind, painting pictures of happier times, times when I could feel free as a Gypsy child and as high and mighty as the Queen of England! I could see my family as well and two lovers strolling down a charming meadow. Redemption, hope, these were all just a miniscule amount of what I felt in that music. The thought of ever leaving it tortured my very soul and ripped apart my spirit, so much so that I yearned for it like a lover and a drug.

It reeled me in, the harmonious sound growing louder and louder into a crescendo of pure beauty and divine light.

I opened my eyes.

"No, this isn't possible!" I whispered hoarsely.

Erik was hunched over my body, his vocal cords producing that intoxicating music.

I felt the tears begin to stream down my redden cheeks in a salty hot mess.

Why was he torturing me this way? All I wanted was to get out of this hell hole and finally find peace but whenever I hear that voice it was like all reason was shaken out of me. Whenever I heard it all I wanted was… him. As crazy as it sounded I wanted him to caress me with that melodic grace till every pain and sorrow dispersed from my body.

And it made me so furious.

"How dare you! How dare you take me from death like that!" I pick up one of the cushions I was laying on and chuck it at his face. "Do you have any idea how long I have waited for death?" the last sentence came out in choked and broken sobs. I knew he was doing what he thought was right, but that wretched voice made everything feel worse.

How can I go to heaven when such a roadblock stopped me every time and pulled me back into its grasp? I felt like a beaten wife that kept crawling back to her abusive husband.

"Well pardon me for trying to save your life." Erik says shooting me a venomous glare. "I guess you would rather face death then be near the likes of me."

"Oh come on! Now you're just twisting everything out of proportion." I get up to grab his shoulder and have him face me, but his hand catches me in an iron grip. "Let go!" I yelp.

"Or what?" he sneers. "All I ever seem to do is cause you trouble and pain, so why should I change now when you've already tasted my wrath!" he twists my wrist tighter and I whimper from the abuse.

"Please Erik your hurting me." I cry, but he wouldn't stop. He just kept squeezing harder and harder, his eyes swelled up with frustration and hurt, till finally I couldn't take it anymore.

I lean up and kiss him.

It was just enough for him to loosen his grip, allowing me to slip out of his hands and run out of the tent.

I just wanted the torcher to end.

Vitaly sees me crying and asks what's wrong, but I just push past him and shut myself inside of the caravan. I bawl my eyes out for hours trying to get that siren song out of my mind, but it just kept repeating itself like a broken record, haunting me forever in my solitude.

I was afraid and angry and in the end I couldn't help but blame myself.

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**Muahahahahaha! Abuse Erik!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Oh my gosh! It's been like what? A month? Yeah sorry guys that A. This is a SUPER short chapter, and B. That I haven't updated in forever, but that's why I posted this. I wanted to make sure that you all know I'm still typing away :D**

**So anyways, yeah short chapter, mostly because it's 11:24 pm and I have school tomorrow. Also I just wanted to share that I have a foreign exchange student living with me and that also I have been having tennis EVERY FREAKING DAY! So that has definitely taken up a lot of time. **

**Oh and I know you guys have been wondering "Oh my gosh what happened to the wolf D:?" Well my pretties, you will have to just see! Fwahahahahahahahahaha! :D Now I gotta sleep DX **

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Erik had had enough.

Waiting was inexplicably hard and he hated to waste time. However, when he did he thought of her.

Why her?

Was it the strange way she carried herself, chin held high, and the careful slope of her neck caressing her choppy wavy locks? Or maybe it was those sharp murky blue eyes that looked at him with an innocent curiosity, and the way she pursed her cupid bow lips in that way that made him delightfully shutter. Anyway he looked at her he could tell she was nothing but trouble for him.

Though he longed for the touch of another human being, and just staring into those bottomless beautiful eyes she had made him want to drown dreamily into them.

In a way they reminded him of the ocean and its hidden secrets. It was vast and deep and each rolling tide reminded him of the curl of her eyelashes. He wanted to dive into the cold shores and explore her every being, letting her engulf him in a sapphire wave of love and security.

Though Erik was much too smart for that, and he knew that she would reject him, spit him back up onto the shore like an angry sea goddess, and once again his heart would ache like the many nights before.

He cursed God and cursed himself.

It was his fault that he was like this, and no God or Saint could help his soul now. He was his own god in a sense, and he would govern himself and survive without the petty belief in a God who had never believed in him.

No one would believe a monster could ever be loved.

His own mother, as beautiful as he was horrifying, couldn't even work up the courage to give the creature she carried and gave birth to a simple kiss, and in a lot of ways he couldn't blame her.

He heard a soft laughter from outside of his secluded abode; laughter he could recognize in his deepest slumber.

Clover walked in the early sun rise with a Gypsy girl, the two slurping and chomping on two juicy red apples. She lost her footing a little and stumbled a bit to regain her balance and a blush seeped into her pale cheeks as she realized Erik had been watching.

These little things filled him with bits of joy, and even though she didn't know he loved everything she did.


	4. Chapter 4

Muahahahaha! Yes It has been forever! Forever since I updated and forever since I've been on :U Well have no fear because I'm still here ^^ and that rhymed too! People have been asking if I still update so I feel obligated to continue for you guys. I will be doing my best to stay up to date in getting these chapters done but they might be fluxing between really short and really long chapters depending on my mood. This one is really short since I need to get back into the groove of things again :P So read and comment 3

* * *

I was saved from the wolf; and he had saved me. I was oblivious to any extent how he had accomplished that feat but there he was right there in all his glory.

I look up at him, wide eyes drinking in the site before me with a slacked jaw resembling that of a hooked fish. I hadn't even realized he had appeared when he did; it was as sudden and beautifully sickening when he did none the less. With effortless sleight of hand a rope slides out from the depths of his cloak and fits itself around the beast's throat. A loud crack resounded throughout the masses of trees and a flock of birds fly into the darkening sky just before the entirety of the scene seeped into silence.

"Why?" he breaths heavily, his voice quaking with anger and adrenaline. I try to respond but my vision starts to waver leaving swirls and distortions dance in front of my eyes. I can only hear him now asking again.

"Why would you just stand there?! You could have been killed you stupid girl." The way he says it stings as though he had bitten me instead of just barked criticism, but underneath the harshness of it all I could almost imagine he cared.

Yeah right, why would someone like him care for someone like me?

However, a light warm feeling began to pull at my heart strings and fill up my chest in the most comforting and loving way I'd ever felt. I never thought I could, or even deserved to feel like that after my death, but here I was blacking out to the feeling very similar to that of someone in the presence of a lover.

I regret getting so mad at him when I look back on it. I didn't regain these memories till much later after the incident however, and felt even more ridiculous for the fact I dared to even place my own sinful lips upon his! Why was I such a spaz?!

I curse myself angrily in my small corner of Vitaly and I's tent, cowering beneath the covers of my "bed." It wasn't exactly as its name implies. The silly thing was nothing more than a heap of blankets spread out on a carpet. Vitaly felt bad about leaving a woman on the ground like that but at the moment there was nothing more we could for furniture. It would be too much of a hassle anyways to lug around a full sized bed being travelers and all, and I hardly believed that the man had enough money to even purchase half of one!

Sulkily I curl into a little ball and begin planning ahead for the future. Being in the same campsite as Erik meant I'd have to be sneaky and avoid him as much as possible, because I knew I could never face up to him for what I did. But what if he came looking for _me?_ What if he was pissed and wanted to hurt me. He did shake me pretty violently once I started to yell at him so who's to say he won't do any worse?

I made my decision then. I'd just have to leave.

It was a tough decision to make, but in the end it seemed to be the right one. There were plenty of other reasons why my permanent absence should occur, including financial issues Vitaly having to take care of both him and me, but this particular one just helped me finalize the whole thing.

I planned to leave as soon as possible and just as anonymous. If Vitaly became suspicious of my sudden leaving he might try and track me down or stop me and either way could lead to Erik finding me. I secretly begin to pack my things trying not to look odd or up to something to my Russian Friend. He happily continues to partake in his regular activities, mostly selling and what not, giving me a chance to slip out of the campsite unnoticed and ready to make it to the next town. I was hoping on my journey I could find someone who could help me figure out the phenomenon that had happened to me in the transitioning from my previous life to this one. Any piece of information to clue why this happened would be helpful in the long run.

I pull out some sort of map from the sack of the few belongings I was carrying and try my best to decipher what it said. It was in some sort of European language that I couldn't read so in the end I just packed it away, giving up on the whole idea of even trying to figure the thing out.

I didn't know how to read a map anyways…


End file.
